


Hot Ticket

by Neverever



Category: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon)
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Insecurity, Instagram, M/M, Pining, Steve Feels, Technology, references to pictures of ants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24398578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neverever/pseuds/Neverever
Summary: Scott posted a shirtless picture of Steve on his Instagram. Steve suddenly finds himself the center of attention from everyone but the one person he cares about, Tony.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 52
Kudos: 496
Collections: Captain America/Iron Man Reverse Bang 2020





	Hot Ticket

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cachette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cachette/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Boop [Art]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24305227) by [Cachette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cachette/pseuds/Cachette). 



> Written for 2020 RBB and inspired by Cachette's lovely and warm art. 
> 
> Hope you all like the fic!
> 
> Thanks to arms_plutonic for the beta work.

“So, what do you say, Steve, can I put this picture on my Instagram?” Scott badgered a shirtless Steve as they stood in the gym locker room.

Steve suspected that he wouldn’t have been ready for Scott’s Instagram even if he had been born twenty-five years ago, instead of nearly a hundred. From what Steve could tell, Scott posted lots of pictures of his favorite ants posing in different shapes. He folded his gym towel and tossed it into the hamper as he considered Scott’s request.

Obviously, posting a picture of Steve working out in the Avengers gym mattered a lot to Scott. Steve was all for the team solidarity and all that. Also, Scott didn’t just post ant pictures and facts, he posted about new science discoveries and Avengers charity events. The post with the most likes was the one of Steve, Clint and Thor stacking boxes of canned goods from the Stark Industries food drive. 

“Okay,” Steve said with a shrug.

“Great, Cap, thanks!” Scott replied a touch overenthusiastically. He rushed out of the room.

As Steve stripped off his workout pants and hit the shower, he didn’t give Scott’s Instagram a second thought. Instead, he thought about laundry, Tony, that pinch in his boot heel, Tony, if there were leftovers in the fridge, Tony, and if Tony would eat leftovers with him. Hmmm, maybe it would be better if he and Tony went out for lunch instead.

Steve had a plan. An excellent plan, since it involved his favorite person. And as a man who loved having a plan, Steve was on top of the world.

~~~~~

Tony spent lunch telling Steve about the movie he’d watched last night while he’d been running tests in the lab. “There were robots doing — I don’t know what — ridiculous special effects, absolutely appalling. You would have loved it,” Tony rattled on. He swiped the last of Steve’s french fries as he described the bad CGI effects. 

Steve didn’t care. He could listen all day to Tony talking a mile a minute about a movie he only watched for a few minutes of here and there. If it meant that Tony did that adorable nose scrunch every time he said “robot.” 

Tony looked mournfully at their empty plates. He’d been the one who suggested going to the restaurant a block over from the Tower. Pepper had recommended the place to him. Steve ordered his usual large lunch, but it was Tony who wolfed down his hamburger instead. “What do you think about dessert?”

“Hmmm,” Steve replied.

The thing about being out in public was that Steve could see how people reacted to Tony. Not everyone immediately recognized Tony as the one and only Tony Stark, famous inventor and superhero. They smiled at Tony because Tony was handsome, even more so when he was smiling. He was irresistible, the bees’ knees, all that and a bag of chips. A “snack” — as Steve learned from the internet.

He stood by, holding Tony’s ice cream as a couple of giggling women shamelessly flirted with Tony. 

“Hey, Tony, can you sign this?” one of them asked, holding out a napkin. Tony flashed one of his best smiles and flirted right back. And Steve died a little inside, because he’d have loved to be on the other end of that smile.

“Been nice meeting you ladies,” Tony said. “But my friend and I have some errands to run.”

One of the women shot a venomous look at Steve, like he had just ruined her entire day by merely existing. Steve hadn’t been looked at like that by anyone who wasn’t HYDRA since 1940. Not that Steve was a jealous guy, but he suddenly felt the need to mark out his nonexistent Tony territory.

Tony retrieved his cone and tugged on Steve’s shirtsleeve. “Come on, Steve. Bob’s Specialty Supply won’t be open forever.”

Now that they saw he was Captain America, the women sheepishly asked for his autograph. Steve would have felt weirder about that if Tony hadn’t hustled him along. 

Bob’s Speciality Supply turned out to be a hole-in-the-wall hardware and tool paradise located somewhere well off the beaten track. Pulling the door open, Tony turned to Steve with a grin. “You’re going to love this place.”

The store owner and regulars greeted them with a chorus of “Hello, Tony!”

“Hello back at ya,” Tony said. “Where are those new jeweler’s anvils you called me about?”

“Right here, Tony,” Bob, an older bearded man in wire frame glasses and a flannel check shirt, said. He pointed down an aisle. Although all the aisles looked the same — floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with brown boxes stamped with small black letters declaring their contents. 

Tony tugged at Steve’s sleeve to show him the collection of small anvils on one of the shelves. He picked up one with a red base and smiled. 

“A bit on the nose?” Steve teased.

“It’s on brand, I’d say.” He put the anvil on the counter near the front of the store.

With a little smile on his face, Steve watched Tony walk up and down the aisles, opening boxes here and there, frowning or smiling depending on what he found before moving on to a different box. Tony debated bolt replacements with a plumber and helped an electrician cut wire on the cutting station wedged against the back wall. Occasionally he excitedly showed Steve an odd widget or funky tool. 

Steve scritched the head of the store’s cat as she sat on the counter next to the ever-growing pile of stuff Tony was going to buy. Bob the owner said, “You’re going to have to drag him out of here. I need to close soon — the wife’s expecting me for dinner.”

Tony paid up and tucked a few things into a bag. “Happy will be by tomorrow to pick up the rest.”

“Thank you, Tony. See you soon?”

“You bet. Call me if you get a lead on that welding torch fitting.”

It didn’t take much for Tony to talk Steve into grabbing a beer and nachos before heading back to the Tower. Not that Steve was going to complain at all at spending more time with Tony. Tony flipped open the multi-tool he’d bought back at the store. “I could put something like this in the armor.”

Steve laughed. “A new weapon against MODOK?”

“Humph. Next time you’re locked out of a HYDRA base, you’ll wish you had one of these things.”

If things kept going this well with Tony, Steve was going to ask Tony out on a date. Soon. Any day now. Sometime this year. Or this decade. 

He was definitely going to do it. Someday.

~~~~~

They had to return to the Tower eventually, of course. Tony had a few hours of tests he had to knock out and Steve had reports to read. As they got off the Avengers elevator and walked into the living room, Steve overheard Natasha snapping at Scott. “Did Steve know what the hell you were up to — posting that picture on your whatever-it-is? No one on this team takes advantage of Steve and his not-knowing stuff.”

“I asked him. You can ask him yourself,” Scott snapped back. “He knew I was going to post it to my Instagram. And by the way, Steve’s a heck of a lot more with it than anyone here gives him credit for.”

Tony looked over at Steve quizzically. Steve shrugged.

From the couch nearest the windows, Natasha was glaring at Scott. Scott sat on the opposite couch, poised to flee. But Sam blocked his escape route. They all were holding their special Stark Industries phones. Clint was sitting on the edge of Natasha’s couch, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but right there. 

“Okay, what impromptu team bonding session are we interrupting?” Tony asked

If Natasha was involved, it could logically be a training session. Though by the dirty looks Nat and Sam were giving Scott, that wasn’t what was going on. Steve and Tony exchanged another wordless look and Tony immediately pulled up Scott’s Instagram on his phone.

“You’re not talking about the ant waving an Avengers flag?” Tony asked, weariness seeping into his voice. He usually stayed on the edges of the team’s more insane moments, unlike Steve, who’d gotten dragged into his share. 

“It’s a nice picture,” Steve said encouragingly to Scott. 

Then Tony’s thumb scrolled down the page and Tony gulped loudly, his face turning an appealing shade of red.

Wow, Tony even blushes beautifully, Steve thought as Tony handed over the phone, unable to look Steve in the eye. 

“Oh, it’s the photo from the gym,” Steve said.

Scott had struck pure gold with his picture. Steve was standing shirtless, thumb pushing down the waistband on his shorts, as if he were posing for the camera and artfully showing off. The light from the locker room window appeared like a halo behind his head as Steve looked thoughtfully off to the side. The shadows highlighted Steve’s muscled shoulders and his pecs. 

It was, in fact, a truly beautiful photo. Steve couldn’t immediately tell that the photo had been taken by an amateur photographer. It was definitely a step up from Scott’s first photos featuring blurry landscapes and thumbs. He hardly recognized himself.

“Steve, you know that you didn’t have to do that,” Sam warned. 

Steve arched an eyebrow. He was perfectly aware that a shirtless man on an Instagram that normally featured ants, Avengers’ charity events, and Scott’s favorite movies would get some attention.

“You broke the internet,” Natasha explained.

Steve honestly hadn’t given it much thought. He was punching bags in the gym, that’s what he did. He worked out all the time, so he didn’t think that Scott’s photo of him would be that big a deal.

“Everywhere,” she stressed, a bit taken aback at Steve’s lack of reaction. “You even trended on twitter for a couple of hours. Admittedly, at first people thought it was Thor.” She shot Scott a look. “Someone decided to clarify that.”

From what Steve had learned since he returned from the ice, a partially clothed man on the internet was not an unusual occurrence. And he wasn’t naked. He had just been going about his business.

Tony wormed his phone out of Steve’s hand and studied the picture. “Woah. And you turned down that article in Men’s Health.”

Steve shook his head. “Everyone agreed about that. They wanted to know about my workout routine, and the interviewer didn’t seem interested.”

“Oh, that must have been after you told him about the three marathons you run each week, then the daily hour of lifting weights and your kickboxing lessons. Then the Olympic-style gymnastics routines, the shield practice --” Clint said. “Yeah, no wonder Men’s Health didn’t want to follow up.”

“Suppose it adds the extra boost beside ants spelling out positive affirmations,” Tony mused. “Hank has to be proud that he handed the equipment off to Scott.”

“Of course Tony would like it,” Clint muttered under his breath.

“You remember I have heightened hearing?” Steve said.

“Right. That’s what you took from all of this,” Clint said. “We don’t remember the super hearing, ‘Super Pecs.’ We’ll get right on that.”

“I told Scott it was okay to post the picture,” Steve said.

“Thanks, Cap!” Scott said. Nat narrowed her eyes and drew a sharp breath.

“Dinner. Has anyone had dinner yet?” Sam asked. “Let’s order pizza. Dinner sounds good, not talking about Scott’s Instagram even better.”

During dinner, Steve surreptitiously checked his fake twitter account. Nat was not joking about the picture trending on twitter. Even it was back to a twitter war between Team Thor and Team Cap. He shoved his phone back into his pocket when Tony handed him a plate of pizza.

“Here, I grabbed your favorite slices before Thor inhaled them,” Tony said.

“Thanks,” Steve said and was rewarded with an adorable nose scrunch from Tony.

~~~~~

“Are you sure about this, Steve?” Naomi asked. Naomi was a long-time veteran of Stark Industries PR Department, and currently deployed to the Avengers support team Tony had set to help with off-field team logistics and publicity.

Steve detected a distinct undertone of ‘I have to explain the internet to Captain America.’ He liked working with her but she did resort to that tone a lot when it came to social media. “I didn’t have a problem with Scott posting the picture.”

It never occurred to Steve that he should be concerned about a shirtless picture on Instagram. Or what people thought about it. Steve didn’t give much weight to people’s reactions to him. He’s spent enough time with anatomy practice to have an appreciation for the beauty of the human form. And he’d been poked and prodded by so many scientists that he had no modesty left.

“Did you get taken advantage of?”

“Ma’am, I was in the Army. I’ve seen it all.”

“PornHub wants an interview,” Naomi said. “That’s just the tip of the iceberg of requests.”

“Um, no. Not PornHub.”

Naomi ended up sending Steve a long long list of interviews ranging from reporters to celebrity magazines to porn sites. Steve was reading through a particularly poorly written screed from an evangelical church pastor who decried the besmirching of one of America’s greatest heroes and asked Steve to denounce the picture. He itched to reply that he walked around the Tower naked all the time with his harem of pool boys.

But Captain America did not answer fan mail that way, no matter how Steve Rogers longed to. Better to ignore and delete. Naomi no doubt had a standard answer for it all.

As far as Steve could tell, people all over the world were shocked, appalled and intrigued that Captain America was super hot and was in fact a sexy, sexy man, not the walking and talking propaganda poster that read stories to kindergartners in libraries. Steve sighed deeply, wishing he could feel as sexy as people apparently thought he was. 

Steve was an artist. He had opinions on the aesthetics of the uniform. He didn’t just care about the reinforcing armor or the ballistic nylon. The shade of blue mattered, and so did the placement of the stripes. He had a civilian look he was comfortable with, even if it was generally a t-shirt, jeans and a motorcycle jacket; but it was his look.

It wasn’t like he gave a lot of thought to his overall physical attractiveness. He never had any looks to begin with before the serum and he wasn’t all that certain he had them now. He’d been overlooked then. And he was overlooked now, if people didn’t know he was Captain America. 

But when it mattered, when it really counted that someone, a specific someone — Tony Stark, in particular, these days — would notice him, it stung hard when that special someone didn’t notice him in that special way. 

That way that said, hey, Steve, you’re something special, aren’t you, let’s do something together.

So the main question for Steve was: did Tony ever notice Steve in that way? And Naomi from the Avengers support team wasn’t going to have that answer.

After Naomi’s call, Steve filed the whole Instagram picture into the “Scott Lang, Hobbies” file and decided to ignore the whole thing. As far as he could tell, Scott was back to posting pictures of ants and his favorite New York places to eat. No big deal, as people said these days.

~~~~~

In fact, the picture continued to be A Very Big Deal, as Steve found out.

“Wow, you sound like a wheezing balloon,” Tony said as he said down next to Steve at the datacrux desk. He set down two cups of coffee. 

Steve snorted as he took the cup. “Thanks, Tony,” he replied with a smile. His coffee was made perfectly, just the way he liked it. 

“What’s up? Analyzing our recent tangle with the Squadron? Or making more Galactus plans? Not that the last set of plans were bad, but you know, improvisation has its merits.” Tony peered closer at Steve’s screen. “Seriously, Steve, twitter?”

“Just reading the news,” Steve said, with a touch of defensiveness.

“News. On Twitter. Right.” Tony leaned over Steve’s shoulder, providing the right sort of distraction Steve craved at that moment. He swiped through a few screens. “Huh. Apparently Twitter can’t decide between “Wow Captain America has abs for days” and “Captain America is not a sex symbol.” That’s modern day America for you.”

“Naomi from the PR said that she’s been swamped for interviews with —”

“Everyone?” Tony pulled up a chair to sit next to Steve. “Could be fun. It’s hell of a lot more fun than the Avengers annual reports you pump out.”

Steve huffed. “People don’t like the reports?”

“Hate to break it to you, sport.” Tony patted his shoulder. “You like the reports. Other people, not so much.”

Steve frowned. He spent a lot of time on those reports with statistical analysis, impact metrics, and evaluation of domestic, international, and space threats to Earth. 

“They’re really good reports, if that matters,” Tony offered, looking at Steve. 

“What do you think about the picture?” Steve blurted out.

He saw Tony’s fingers tighten nearly imperceptibly on the handle of the coffee mug as Tony’s eyes slanted down to the ground. “Beats the ants, if that’s what you’re asking about.” 

“Does beat the ants. But you know, the picture of the ants dressed up in Christmas outfits got a lot of hits.”

“People like ants that much?” Tony asked, lifting a skeptical eyebrow.

“Maybe it’s the whimsy?”

“Hmm.” Tony tilted his head to the side. “Still don’t get it.” He tapped the screen and jumped back in his seat. “Got to go. I have an SI shindig tonight.”

“Do you want company?”

“No, it’s not that sort of event. I can fill you in on the gory details later.”

Great, now Steve had another thing to brood over. Tony was always happy to have Steve tag along when he had to attend a Stark Industries event. But not tonight? Not after The Picture? 

Steve sighed deeply, cricked his neck, and navigated back to the SHIELD database. He had all day to analyze the latest data on the Squadron Supreme and make training plans for the team. Unlike the himbo that the Stark Industries board apparently thought Steve was and Tony didn’t need on his arm.

Not that Tony escorted Steve around on his arm or anything. Not that Steve ever thought about showing off Tony in a tux at some fancy charity event.

A beep from the computer and he clicked on the email from Fury. “Captain America, we need you to evaluate a group of new recruits and provide security for the new helicarrier build this weekend.”

Steve’s fingers paused over the keyboard before he responded yes. Not that Steve ever thought about telling Fury he couldn’t because he already had plans with Tony for the weekend. Plans that did not involve SHIELD or the Avengers. Plans that involved a lot more than just shirtlessness and couldn’t be posted on any social media anywhere.

~~~~~

The Saga of the Shirtless Picture continued through the weekend.

Steve returned to the Tower, grumpy, tired and ready to burn SHIELD down to the ground Saturday. He was pulling off his motorcycle jacket as he got off the main elevator to the Avengers floors. There had been a surprise torrential downpour on the ride back to the Tower.

“You look like something that the cat dragged in,” Natasha cheerfully said. 

Steve hung his jacket up in the foyer closet and stashed his helmet on the closet shelf. “Yeah.”

“Long day?”

“New recruits, cranky contractors.” Steve didn’t feel the need to get into all the tense conversations he had about top-secret access to the SHIELD base. Fury had set him up, since he had to know that the HVAC contractors coming in for work didn’t much care for SHIELD protocol or the enforcers of said protocols. The recruits were another kettle of fish. Thanks to the serum, he remembered every single detail of the terrible day in Ultra 4K HD. 

“We have food.”

“Where?”

Tony had called in dinner from the SI events catering team. It was an actual buffet set up in the living room, complete with cloth napkins, silverware and plates with the Stark Industries logo. And nearly all of Steve’s favorite food. The large mounds of roast beef, mashed garlic potatoes, and warm rolls almost made him cry.

“What’s the occasion?” Steve asked.

Tony shrugged. “Nothing. We had to cancel a lawyer meeting last minute, so why waste food?”

“Is this about the event the other night?”

Tony groaned. “You have no idea — it’s been Contract Lawyer Fest all week at Stark Industries. We’re acquiring a company and last night was supposed to be a contract signing. That’s why I had to go solo. I got to work and my lawyers told me to call it off. So food today for the team.”

Sitting around the living room, full of food with beer in hand, Steve could almost feel like everything was perfect with the world. Tony, in his usual spot next to Steve on the coach, nudged him. “Your deal.”

Steve gathered up the cards to shuffle them. The whole team was playing hearts, with Clint explaining the game to Thor, and Steve was winning. He pondered over his cards, Tony a nice, warm presence at his left elbow. He ran his hand through his hair, messing it up and unbuttoned his blue shirt, revealing the tight t-shirt underneath. He smiled at Tony, who pretended to sneak peeks at Steve’s cards.

He was so relaxed and happy that he barely registered the flash from Scott’s phone.

~~~~~

The next morning, Clint sprung the latest news about Scott’s Instagram on Steve at breakfast. It was a later than usual morning for Steve as he and Tony had stayed up watching movies when the rest of the team headed off to other places. Steve had rolled into bed around four a.m. because he’d been reluctant to wake up Tony, who had fallen asleep on his shoulder. 

To be accurate, Clint was having lunch while Steve was eating breakfast. “See the latest from the Wanna-be King of Instragam?”

Steve looked up from the Daily Bugle on his tablet at Clint waggling his phone. “Ant or food pictures?” he asked wearily.

Clint flicked his fingers over the phone. “Oh, yeah, there is a new ant picture. An ant on a Giants button.”

“Anything better than a Yankees fan.” Steve clung to his baseball roots and barely gave the National League a second thought except for the All-Star game and the playoffs. 

“That’s not the only picture.” Clint held out his phone. “Didn’t know you had secret ambitions to be a male model.”

Steve’s shoulders slumped as he looked at the picture Scott posted from last night’s card game. Scott had cropped Tony out of the picture so the focus was on Steve. Again, a surprisingly beautiful picture of Steve in a pose with his biceps flexed, blond hair messy, bright blue eyes, and hints of collarbone under the shirt. A little bit of Tony could be seen on the right edge of the picture, just a shadow of his hair and dark t-shirt.

“Ugh,” Steve said.

“It’s breaking the internet again. But at least they’re not thinking you’re Thor this time.”

“Scott tagged it this time.”

“That’s the second highest ‘like’ count Scott’s ever gotten.”

“Yep,” Steve replied, pointedly returning to his digital paper.

Clint rubbed his jaw, fixing a thoughtful look on Steve. “Tony, Thor and I went out for lunch for the other day. That great place with the barbeque, you know the place. Anyway, the counter person — the woman with the curly hair — asked about you.”

“Me? I doubt --”

“Yeah, yeah, she was clearly disappointed that you weren’t with us. And I was with _Tony_ and _Thor_. Think about that, Steve.”

“Evie is very nice. She gives us extra cups when we order fountain sodas and extra cornbread,” Steve explained.

Clint groaned. “Sure, Steve. Evie was disappointed that you weren’t there because she couldn’t give us extra cups and cornbread. Absolutely.”

After lunch, Steve went out to get some groceries since he’d run out of yogurt and gatorade and the Tower food delivery wouldn’t be until Monday. At the market, he picked up avocados, salsa, and chips for Tony with his groceries. He liked watching Tony’s strong hands mixing up his guacamole dip, the elegant fingers tightly wrapped around the spoon. He adored Tony’s clever hands and always found a way to talk Tony into letting him sketch his hands when they had rare downtime.

What he didn’t like so much was being followed around the store by people snapping pictures of him picking up a basket, testing the avocados, standing in line to check out. Steve in his Mets baseball cap was mostly anonymous, especially in New York’s celebrity-drenched atmosphere. He wasn’t anything special. He was, of course, polite to anyone who ventured to ask for an autograph, except this time the requests for autographs seemed more of an excuse to have a conversation with Steve. 

The trip to the store rapidly turned into an ordeal. He was grateful to finally reach the cashier. The cashier visibly perked up when Steve put his basket on the counter. He straightened up, pushed his hair back, and gave Steve the brightest smile. “Did you find everything you needed?”

Steve froze a second. The cashier was a shade on the young side, but quite cute with freckles over his nose. “Yeah, I did,” Steve mumbled awkwardly. Then he tried to slink out of the store as best as a six-foot-two-inch, 240-pound hot ticket could.

~~~~~

“This calls for a celebration, friends!” Thor exclaimed as he threw his arms over Steve and Tony’s shoulders. 

The Avengers had handily defeated an AIM crew that afternoon. Quick, easily contained fight with not much property damage. They didn’t get many days like this one. Thor had reached a personal best of thumping fifteen agents with one hammer throw. 

“Jarvis, call the restaurant,” Thor declared. “For we shall feast tonight!”

Steve (and the rest of the team for that matter) hadn’t learned the name of Thor’s favorite restaurant. He thought the name was All-American Bar and Grill or something like that. It was not a place that Steve and Tony went to unless Thor invited them. The restaurant served up its vaguely described “American steakhouse” menu in large, heaping portions in a huge dining room. Clint called it the size of an airplane hanger, though the restaurant couldn’t be _that_ large. Steve didn’t go there because the food wasn’t that good. Tony didn’t, because it was in the Seaport and in a distinctly touristy area. However, Thor loved the restaurant and the restaurant staff loved Thor. They had even named their twenty-scoop ice cream sundae with seven different toppings after Thor.

Tony freed himself from Thor’s arm. “Jarvis, make the reservations for seven p.m. under Thor’s name.”

“So late?” Thor inquired.

“We need showers,” Natasha explained. 

“And I have to —” Steve started.

Tony hip-checked him. “Don’t say it. You’re not going to do paperwork tonight.”

“But SHIELD and the police —”

“Take a break, Steve. No one is going to get upset if you wait until tomorrow. See, the police are already opening up the streets.”

Well, shoot, he couldn’t deny Tony anything when Tony smiled at him like that.

Cleaned up and ready for a long night out, the team tumbled out of the town cars in front of the already crowded restaurant. Thor swept ahead of them, eager to claim their table and get down to eating. Hulk followed after, equally eager to prove he could eat more than Thor. 

Clint commented to Natasha, “I can’t see how this night is going to end well if Hulk and Thor are having an eating contest.”

“Did Jarvis put in the appetizer and drinks order, Tony?” Natasha asked.

“Always.” They had learned the hard way to order some food ahead of time since neither Thor nor the Hulk were the more patient Avengers when food was involved.

Steve followed at the rear of the team, noticing the sudden attention from people waiting outside the restaurant as they recognized the Avengers. Scott had his camera out to take a selfie with some people. He waved Steve over for pictures.

“Hey, come on,” Natasha called to them. “They’re ready to seat us.”

Thor was at the hostess station and waved at Steve and Scott to join them. Steve noticed the hostesses and servers arguing over the seating chart. That was strange, since the restaurant gave Thor a dedicated table in a prominent spot in the dining room. A brunette server grabbed a pile of menus and smiled at Steve directly. “Your table is ready.”

The team was seated, with their server hovering Steve, pouring him water, asking for his order and serving him first. Tony wordlessly arched an eyebrow at Steve, who shrugged back. He had no idea. Maybe it was because she couldn’t easily stand next to Thor.

They tore through the appetizers and Thor, naturally, ordered another round. The food and drinks kept flowing to the table, the restaurant was bustling and crowded, and Clint was telling a very complicated story about Olympic archery that Steve was trying to follow. A small group of children came up and asked for autographs. The team gladly signed the kids’ menus.

Then a group of college-aged people came up to the table. A blonde woman asked Steve about taking a picture. Filled with supreme confidence, Thor smiled broadly and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, I will be more than happy to take pictures with you.”

The woman glanced back at her friends, one of whom glared back. “Captain America.”

“Yes, of course.” Steve stood up and took a few pictures with the now smiling and laughing group. He waved them off as they said goodbye. 

That was the way the rest of the meal went. People came up to the table, asking for Steve specifically. Thor looked confused at first, then a little deflated, especially after one particularly attractive woman didn’t recognize him, but made a beeline for Steve. Other servers stopped by the table asking Steve if he needed anything.

“You seem popular tonight, Steven,” Thor said. He was quieter than usual tonight. 

“I don’t know why,” Steve replied.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “It’s Instagram. And Steve’s not chopped liver.”

Their server came up to take Hulk, Steve and Thor’s second dinner order. She licked the tip of her pencil and smiled at Steve, tapping his shoulder to get his attention. “Ready to order?” Another few groups of people trooped up to the table, interrupting Steve and his ribs.

Tony nudged Steve’s arm. “People are flirting with you, Steve,” he said darkly.

Steve hoped his ribs weren’t cold — they were actually good tonight. “They’re just tourists being friendly.”

“One person blatantly propositioned you. You didn’t pick up on that?”

“Really?” He was in luck, the ribs were warm. “I didn’t see.”

Tony made a strangled noise as he turned back to his fries. He held up a napkin with a number on it. “And people are just giving you phone numbers for the fun of it?”

“Time for desert,” Thor declared half-heartedly.

Steve showed the dessert menu to Tony. “Any opinions?” Tony generally didn’t order dessert, but had no problem sharing Steve’s, so Steve asked him before ordering. 

“Doesn’t matter to me,” Tony replied. He was reading his phone. 

Steve did a double take. “You like the cheesecake.”

“Fine. Cheesecake.”

“Tony?”

Tony got up from his seat, and Steve immediately followed him to the lobby and outside in front of the restaurant. Tony paced a bit, clearly agitated. Worried over Tony’s agitation, Steve waited helplessly.

“Excuse me, can I have an autograph?” an attractive, dark-haired man asked Steve. 

“Yes,” Steve replied with a tight smile. Tony was now leaning against a parking meter, staring the man down. Steve didn’t know what was wrong. He chatted a couple of minutes with the man and his friend. “I’m sorry,” Steve apologized. “But my friend Tony and I were —”

“Iron Man?” the man said, giving Tony an indecipherable look. “An autograph, please?”

Tony signed the man’s napkin with the usual charm. But once the man was gone, Tony asked Steve, “Are you happy with this?”

“What?”

“It just seems that all of a sudden — you know, you like the attention?”

Steve wanted to eat in peace in restaurants and not live off takeout and frozen pizza. His food nearly got cold because of all the pictures. And while New Yorkers were blase in general about celebrities in their midst, Steve was an attention magnet all of a sudden for some reason.

He could handle the attention if he were decked out in the red, white and blue. Instead, all he had for a shield against the oppressive attention was a motorcycle jacket, t-shirt, and jeans and Tony Stark. And now Tony was upset.

“You think I like this?”

“You’re not complaining.”

“It’s rude to complain,” Steve snapped. 

“There’s better ways to handle this.”

“Not all of us are you, Tony.” 

“What do you mean by that,” Tony replied in that calm but still angry, measured tone that got under Steve’s skin like nothing else on earth or greater space. 

“You like attention—” Steve had no idea why Tony was so angry. But he was getting angry now too. Tony had a way of hitting all his buttons.

“Are you saying that I’m _jealous_?”

“I don’t know.” Steve was miserable. He really didn’t want to be fighting with Tony right now, but he couldn’t stop engaging. Dinner had been a disaster. “I don’t give a flying f—”

“You pose shirtless, you’re an attention hog, now you swear — when is it going to end, Steve?”

“Oh, go shove it somewhere, Stark,” Steve said as he stomped off.

~~~~~

Working out always cleared up Steve’s head. Food, sleep, and an hour of gymnastics and all was right again in Steve’s world.

Except that Tony was likely still angry with Steve. He hadn’t texted or reached out since their argument outside the restaurant the night before.

“Hey, Steve, mind if I take a picture?” Scott asked.

Steve caught a quick look of himself in the changing room mirror. He was wearing a tight pair of blue spandex gymnastics pants with the Avengers logo pasted all over, now riding low on his hips. His chest and arms shone a little with sweat and he had chalk all over his hands. He judged immediately what he’d look like on Scott’s Instagram.

“Thanks for asking, but I’m going to pass this time,” Steve said.

“Oh, yeah, right,” Scott said.

Steve picked up the trace of disappointment in his voice. “Are you doing this for the right reasons or just for the likes?”

“It’s Instagram — so the right thing is doing it for the likes,” Scott admitted. “But how —”

“I know how Instagram works, Scott, and I’m not the way for you to become an Instagram influencer. My suggestion is less ants, more diner food. People seem to like that.”

Scott cracked a smile. “Yeah, okay. I can’t believe I’m getting social media advice from Captain America.”

“Captain America is a brand. And he’s not tech savvy. According to the brand people.”

“Right.” Scott nodded.

“And it’s not on brand for him to be shirtless on Instagram.”

“There’s a difference between Captain America and Steve Rogers?” Scott asked, like he had just found out that gravity didn’t exist. 

There were terms for authenticity and performance and presentation and the differences among them all in here in the future, Steve had learned. As far as Steve cared, Cap was authentic, and so was Steve. But Captain America was Captain America, and Steve was Steve. And Steve had things to do and places to be and an angry Tony to deal with. So Steve shut down Scott’s question with a look and turned back to his locker.

Scott stopped in the doorway. “Another thing — why don’t you correct people about what you know? You’re a lot smarter than people give you credit for.”

Steve shrugged. “Takes a lot of effort. Better to show through actions. Let people figure it out.”

Now, if he was just as smart about Tony, life would be a lot better.

He paused a second in the mirror and took out his phone. Maybe one picture of himself in the leggings. He tousled his hair artfully, as the stylists called it, posed so that the shadows hit in the right places, and snapped the picture. Might come in handy later.

Steve threw on an Avengers logo t-shirt and sweatpants and headed out to find Tony.

~~~~~

“Tony?” Steve called out when he walked into the cavernous room Tony called his workshop.

“Um, Steve, could use a little help here,” Tony said.

Steve found Tony stuck under one of the armors. His t-shirt had caught on a bent piece of metal under the Iron Man harness. He twisted until Steve’s fingers found the spot and unhooked the t-shirt. But the damage had been done and the shirt ripped at the shoulder hem.

“My hero,” Tony said. He was covered in greasy smudges in a way that Steve couldn’t help but find attractive. “I didn’t want to ruin this shirt.”

“It tore on the seam — I can stitch that up.” Steve smiled fondly at Tony in his Captain America shield t-shirt. 

“Hey, about last night —”

“Let’s forget about it. It was a long day with the fight and the restaurant.”

Tony pulled over two wheelie chairs, one for him and one for Steve. “No, we need to talk. I’m going to do it right now before I can talk myself out of it. I’ve been thinking all night.”

“You didn’t get any sleep, Tony?” Steve asked with alarm.

“Ugh. No. That’s not the problem.” Tony sighed. He rubbed his hands up and down his thighs. “Okay. I can do this.”

“Tony?” Steve asked, worry creeping into his voice.

“Look, until this whole Instagram mess, you were my own little secret. I knew you were hot and the greatest guy on the planet. Now everyone knows my secret. You know me — I don’t like sharing my secrets.”

Steve tipped his head. “I don’t follow.”

“I’ve been trying to ask you for ages. Just never the right time, you know. Then Scott’s stupid Instagram thing happens and everyone wants you.”

Steve took a deep breath as Tony’s words sunk in. “Are you — are you asking me out?”

“Yeah.” Tony nodded his head up and down slowly. “I think I am. But I might be late.”

Steve almost didn’t hear Tony over the swelling triumphal music in his head and the repeating thought that Tony wanted to ask him out. Him. Steve. Tony wanted Steve. Steve blinked a couple of times as his heart beat fast. “Why would you say that?”

“After Scott’s pictures hit the internet, it’s like everyone wants in your pants all of a sudden.” Tony smiled grimly. “I’m just another guy in the crowd.”

“Tony — Tony, you’re never another guy in the crowd. Not to me, not to anyone.” Steve wheeled his chair closer to Tony, putting his elbows on his knees so he could lean in. 

“Those pictures, Steve. You have no idea how hot you looked in those pictures. It’s ridiculous how hot you are.”

“It only matters if you find me hot,” Steve admitted.

“What?” Tony looked shocked.

“I don’t care what other people think, I only care what a special someone thinks of me.”

“I’m that special someone?” 

“You’re the only one for me, Tony,” Steve swore. “I’ve wanted to ask you out but I didn’t think that you thought of me that way.”

“Really? I thought I was clear in my interest.”

Steve snorted. “I might need to be hit in the head with a unibeam to get the message.”

“Fine, can you go out tonight?”

“Yes. Anywhere.”

Tony looked at his clothes. “Let’s start with drinks after I get cleaned up and see where it goes from there.”

Steve nearly cracked his head in two from smiling so hard. He could dance with joy. Tony. Steve. On a date. “I can get behind that plan.”

Tony laughed, then he leaned towards Steve. He murmured. “Does it matter if your special someone thinks you’re hot and sexy and wants to see every part of you?”

Steve nearly choked on his own breath. “No.”

Then Tony swiped a finger across Steve’s nose, leaving a greasy smudge. “I like you like this. I like you in your uniform. I like you in your ridiculous workout clothes. I don’t care what other people think if they can’t see how perfect you are.”

“Tony —” Steve said, a feeling of love and absolute adoration sweeping over him. And a little curl of lust twisted in his stomach. He pulled out his phone and sent Tony a text. “What do you think about that?”

Tony turned fifteen shades of red when he saw the picture of Steve in the gymnastics pants. “I — I — let’s talk about this later.”

Steve smiled in triumph at rendering Tony speechless. “Yes. Just you and me.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Boop [Art]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24305227) by [Cachette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cachette/pseuds/Cachette)




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